


Arkham Games

by Esperata



Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Homophobic Language, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Stubborn Denial, except not really friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Factions are at play backing Penguin into a corner. And if that wasn't enough to be dealing with, he also has to fathom whatever is going on between him and Riddler.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 97
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

The sound of brass knuckles hitting flesh and cracking bones always gave Penguin a thrill but unfortunately he wasn’t of a mood to enjoy it so much this time.

“What bloody use to me is this information?” he demanded of his cowering lackey. “You were supposed to report  _ before  _ it went to vote. How am I supposed to coerce anyone now?”

He punched them again, taking some satisfaction in the crunching sound it produced.

“Ah’m sorry,” they mumbled, blood dripping from their mouth, nose and busted cheek. “Ah thought it was still Monday.”

The sheer inanity of the reply provoked Oswald to hit him again, hard, but another voice interrupted them before he could repeat the move.

“Trouble with the hired help Penguin? It is so difficult to find good help these days.”

Oswald looked up to see the Riddler wandering casually down the alley towards the little group, twirling his trademark cane as if out for a Sunday stroll.

“Nygma.” He turned to face him, peripherally aware of his club’s bouncers moving to ensure his victim didn’t take the opportunity to run. “What do you want? I’m busy.”

“So I see.”

Riddler took in the scene at a glance, his mind no doubt cataloguing every detail, and then focused on Oswald.

“I thought we might discuss this current turn of events.”

There was no doubting what exactly Nygma was referring to but Oswald still took his time as he considered the proposition. Extracting a cigar from his pocket he deftly lit it and took a long inhale, watching as Edward gave a noticeable sniff at the aroma.

“You mean the motion to create a super prison here in the north of the city,” he confirmed.

It never did to make assumptions, especially where Riddler was concerned, nor to give away any information that could be bartered for. Yet this particular topic was already the talk of the town.

“Which, rumour has, got passed by the council.” He paused and fixed his eyes on Oswald. “I confess that surprised me. I felt for sure you’d have swung the vote to at the very least exclude the area round your club.”

That refocused Penguin’s gaze onto the whimpering idiot at their feet and he growled.

“And I would have done if this imbecile hadn’t somehow lost track of the days!”

The snarl finally triggered the man’s panic response and he attempted to flee. Caught off guard, he managed to slip from the meaty hands of his restrainers and was half way past Penguin before anyone managed to react. To Oswald’s mixed admiration and annoyance it was Riddler who stopped his flight by the simple expedient of tripping him with the hooked end of his cane. Rather than acknowledge that though he turned his ire onto his goons.

“You bloody fools! I ask you to watch this treacherous rat for one lousy minute and you can’t even do that right!”

A murmured apologetic chorus met his angry complaint even as one guy diligently moved forward to yank the dazed escapee up and into a more bruising grip.

“Break his legs and stick him in one of the cages over the gladiator pit. I’ll deal with him later.”

Turning back to address Nygma again he found the man much closer and was momentarily struck dumb as he reached out to snatch the cigar from his unresisting fingers. Oswald watched in vaguely mystified surprise as Ed inhaled along its length before bringing it to his lips and sucking on it gently.

“Hhmm, I thought so. A Rough Rider.”

Something about the action combined with the smirk on Nygma’s face momentarily stymied any response Oswald wanted to make and Edward took advantage of his lax lips to set the cigar back there. The realisation of having shared spittle with the man finally generated a reaction though and he swatted Nygma’s hands away irritably, even while glancing to make sure that none of his men were watching.

“What was that about you puzzle obsessed pansy?”

His anger failed to bother Nygma who shrugged dismissively.

“Just testing a theory.”

Oswald glowered but knew better than to question further. Nygma would only give him an answer. Probably in depth.

“Now, about the current situation,” Edward prompted, his own eyes checking over his cane for damage. “I have some thoughts.”

“Of course you do,” Oswald muttered, not quite low enough to be polite.

“Your informant there… Wasn’t conscious what day of the week it was. Correct?”

Even though Oswald knew Nygma had overheard that from him, his tone was still suspicious.

“Yeah.”

“Curious.”

As nothing more seemed to be forthcoming Oswald quickly lost patience.

“Either you sodding well came to share those thoughts or you didn’t. Now make up your bloody mind.”

“Tut tut,” Nygma admonished him with a grin. “You of all people should know you get nothing for nothing. Now. Aren’t you at least going to invite me in?”

The urge to throttle him where he stood was strong but Oswald bit it back. Nygma had the potential to be useful after all. Instead he fixed a fake smile to his face and gestured him to the Iceberg Lounge entrance.

“After you my friend.”

Edward had no hesitation about striding into the glamorous venue, despite his own appearance barely meeting the dress code. Even then the cheap and disreputable nature of his jacket and tie would have been enough to deny him entry under other circumstances if he had not been accompanied by the owner. Oswald himself rolled his sleeves back down as they reached the doorway and extended a hand to reclaim his jacket from the staff on cloakroom duty who was clearly anxious not to delay his boss.

Looking round again he realised Ed had stopped just inside the doorway to rake his quick and intelligent gaze over everything, from the balconies down to the hint of underfloor depths, and felt a surge of pride in his establishment. This place had been the back end of a dead end museum when he’d snapped it up for a sous. Now it was the most exclusive nightclub in Gotham.

He frowned. Except that it was now under threat from this super prison development. The thought occurred to him that perhaps a rival had gotten leverage to try and run him out of business and he stiffened in resolve.

“This way.” He gestured imperially as he set out across the room to lead Riddler to his office.

Their journey through the bustling room drew attention as everyone noted the infamous villains sharing company. Ordinary Oswald would not be tarred with those scandalous associations while playing host but the presence of Riddler naturally got tongues wagging. Especially in conjunction with the reports of the imminent threat to the place. It did nothing to improve his mood any even though he stalwartly refused to acknowledge the implication of his choice of companion. It was hardly his choice anyhow.

Still, he felt more at ease once they reached the seclusion of his office space and he could turn to stare down his associate again. Although Riddler seemed inclined to ignore his pointed stare.

“What? No drink?”

“That depends. Have you got money to spend at the bar?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a miserable host?”

The insult rolled off Oswald and he crossed his arms as he met Ed’s gaze head on.

“You came to me with information to share. I doubt you wanted free drinks in return.”

An inclination of the head implied Ed was willing to concede the veracity of that remark. Either way he redirected their conversation with no further hesitation.

“While Joker laughingly injected Titan, and Ivy grew her venomous garden, ‘Crow was dragged into the sewer, but what became of the Mad Hatter?”

“Is that some sort of riddle?” Oswald asked, entirely unimpressed.

“Hardly,” Ed sniffed with professional derision. “Just a legitimate question. Do you know the answer?”

Oswald paused to consider it. While Ed may have phrased it in his own particularly poetic way, the point was simple enough. During the business when Joker took over the asylum, where had the Mad Hatter ended up? Truthfully Oswald hadn’t even thought about the Carroll obsessed rogue and only now realised he hadn’t heard anything of him in months.

Yet he knew better than to outright admit his ignorance. There was a method to dealing with Riddler if you wanted information out of him that required a balancing act. Too much interest and he’d string you along pointlessly. Too little and he’d stubbornly shut up. The trick was to give him a reason to tell you that allowed him to flaunt the knowledge.

“Why should I care what happened to him? What could he possibly have to do with the designation of my club as part of an area of extreme social decay and neglect?”

He couldn’t help but sneer the last part, the sting of the council’s assessment still hurting. Their stupidity in not seeing how he was actively working to raise the area’s profile. Ed naturally overlooked Oswald’s petty frustrations as he focused on his own priorities but his smug smile showed that Oswald’s ploy had worked perfectly before he was even answered.

“Ah. You may be good enough at seeing the big picture,” Ed allowed semi-magnanimously. “But it pays to know how all the cogs turn together.”

“Fine,” Oswald huffed. “Enlighten me then.”

To his irritation, Ed’s smirk widened and he asked another seemingly random question.

“Does the name Hugo Strange mean anything to you?”

Despite his rising instinct to simply tell Ed to piss off and forget this stupid cat and mouse game of his, Oswald inhaled and gave it due thought. Perhaps because the name did actually ring a bell.

“Yes. Some sort of psychiatrist isn’t he? Ran a clinic over towards Crime Alley.”

“Very good.” The patronising tone made Oswald’s teeth clench again but thankfully Ed pressed on. “His specialty is hypnosis and he was resident in Arkham Asylum to study the patients there.”

“Hypnosis,” Oswald echoed. “Which happens to be the special gift of the Mad Hatter.”

“Do you see now why I asked what became of him?”

His nod in response was mostly instinctive as his mind began to put the pieces together.

“You’re saying this Hugo Strange fellow picked up tricks from Tetch?”

“‘Picked up’ is perhaps not the phrasing I would use. He kept Jervis locked in the very lowest levels of Arkham in solitary confinement.”

Despite the words, Oswald understood Ed wasn’t actually concerned on Jervis’ behalf. It was merely the accuracy that concerned him.

“Rumour is,” Ed continued, now on a roll as he felt he had a receptive audience, “That Hugo Strange is working with Quincy Sharp on this project. In which light, your spy in their midst forgetting the day of the week perhaps takes on a new light.”

“He was under hypnosis. To give them time to pass their dratted motion without interference.”

Ed hummed in response and switched his attention back to his cane.

“I find it interesting that they were so intent on ensuring your club got incorporated. Almost certainly without this interference you would have swung the vote your way otherwise. It could be enough to make one paranoid.”

“It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you,” Oswald snapped.

Silence fell and he suddenly realised that was perhaps the point Ed had been trying to get him to see. That he needed to be on his guard against the new authority trying to displace him. It was always helpful to have a name to put to a threat but he had to wonder what Ed got out of it.

“I appreciate the warning,” he offered. “But what do you want in return?”

The smile that prompted wasn’t reassuring but it was quickly wiped away as Ed shrugged dismissively.

“I have plans of my own for this place. If they truly do make it a super prison then I guarantee the Bat will come take a look.” His lips curled again. “And when he does I intend to be ready.  _ But _ I’m likely to need odds and ends. Wires, bulbs, electronics.”

“All of which I can acquire for you,” Oswald concluded preemptively.

“I’ll pay of course. In favours or information. This is just a gesture of goodwill to confirm our deal.”

“And give you priority with any hard to find items?”

“I’ve shown I’m good for payments,” Ed countered. “I’d hope that would count for something.”

Oswald could hardly argue the point. Of all his acquaintances, Ed was by far the most reliable, even if he was the most inclined to nitpick on interpretations. Therefore he extended his hand with equanimity.

Ed took it with another wide grin. Something in his expression put Oswald on guard. It felt as if he’d given away something but hadn’t realised exactly what yet. They released and stepped apart, eyes still surveying each other as Ed continued to look far too smug for Oswald’s liking. Before he could analyse how their deal might be reinterpreted however the man spun away to leave casting only a final wave over his shoulder.

“A pleasure doing business with you Oswald.”

All Penguin’s instincts told him he’d just made a deal with the devil without reading the small print but he swallowed that paranoia down. It was only Nygma after all and he was sure he could handle anything from him. Besides which, he now had other enemies to prioritise.


	2. Chapter 2

His office was hard for anyone unexpected to reach. Firstly the person would have to be welcomed into the premises past bouncers on the door. Then, to gain entrance to the corridor leading to his office, they’d need to be checked by trained security personnel. Finally the door itself was always electronically sealed in his absence and blocked with muscle men when he was in residence. Not to mention the sundry individuals patrolling the property at all times.

All of which meant that for a moment Oswald was struck dumb with amazement to see Nygma perched on his desk when he let himself back in. The irritating man merely glanced up with a smile when he deigned to notice Penguin’s presence. For his own part, Oswald decided to ignore him momentarily in order to focus on what he felt was the more irritating part of the whole thing. Turning back therefore, he glared up at his escort.

“Do either of you blundering idiots care to explain how Riddler comes to be sitting in my office? What am I bloody well paying you for if you can’t keep one scrawny twerp out?”

He didn’t await a reply before spinning round, fully expecting his uninvited guest to have something to say on the matter. And he was not disappointed in that assumption.

“Really Oswald, your security could stand some improvement. Even just a few infra red gate triggers or electrified fences would help. I mean, it would still be child’s play for  _ me  _ to get in but it might stop a few confused toddlers.”

Oswald didn’t answer. Partly because he was pissed off and didn’t want to give Ed the satisfaction but also because the man was right. His security was lacking. Still, at least now he had a few ideas on how to improve things. And he was also reminded of his  _ other  _ security feature which Ed had yet to meet.

Stepping into the room with a faux friendly smile therefore he cast an obvious look up and down the figure on his desk.

“You’re filthy,” he commented with mock sympathy in his tone. Another step closer and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. “And you reek. If we’re to be having a meeting I insist you clean up first.”

He gestured imperiously and for once his men managed to obey his wishes, quickly moving either side of him to seize the interloper.

“Penguin,” Edward was obviously aiming for a stern manner but it faltered slightly as the grip on him tightened. “I thought we’d agreed to conduct business. You should hear me out before throwing me out.”

“Who said anything about throwing you out?” Oswald grinned, leaving his lingering stare on Ed long enough to make him uncomfortable before glancing briefly to the others. “Dump him in with Tiny. that should get rid of the offensive aroma in here.”

He laughed at his own wit, turning in place to watch Edward being hauled away, feet not even touching the floor.

“Oswald. You know I’m too valuable an ally to so callously dispose of. If you hear me out, it'll be worth your while.”

Almost despite himself, Oswald found himself following along the corridor as they headed for the flooded museum area that housed his pet. If anyone challenged him later though he’d say it was only for the amusement of watching Nygma take a dunking. Nevertheless he reasoned there was no harm in playing along and toying with the man some more.

“Alright. I’m listening. You’ve got one staircase and a short corridor to make your point.”

“I can improve your security. Fit lasers and electrify walls. Have encrypted security panels.”

Behind him Oswald waved a hand dismissively.

“I can do all that myself. Just because I haven’t  _ yet  _ doesn’t mean I’m incapable. And if  _ I  _ do it, then it won’t be so easy for  _ you  _ to walk in.”

“Still doable though,” Ed seemingly couldn’t help from answering. “There’s no trap I can’t defeat.”

“You’re not helping your case and we don’t have far to go.”

Riddler appeared to realise the same thing as he blurted his next offer.

“I could build you communication jammers.” 

“What do I want with communication jammers?”

“Well… to keep your plans private,” Ed said with the air of someone pointing out the obvious. “You’re not the only criminal about to be locked in here. There’s going to be a lot of commands carried over the airwaves before long. Hacking those will give someone an advantage. As would blocking them.”

The idea was actually tempting and Oswald fell silent as he contemplated it. It also allowed him to regulate his breathing as he forced himself up the last of the stairs. The shortness of breath reminded him he needed to clean his stoma later but he shelved that thought momentarily to pick up the thread of their conversation once again.

“I don’t need you for that though. I used to tune into police frequencies all the time.”

Ahead of them the shimmering surface of the large flooded room glinted and Oswald could tell the sight was worrying Nygma. Especially as they got nearer and he began squirming noticeably.

“What about the Bat?” he exclaimed abruptly.

“What?”

Oswald couldn’t keep his own glance from scanning the water for his pet and it was probably this distraction that prevented him from immediately following Ed’s train of thought.

“I can jam him from your frequency,” Ed explained desperately.

Finally Oswald returned his gaze to him, seeing him now suspended over the edge.

“Or hack into his signal.”

Ed just had time to say that before he dropped with a sharp cry of surprise which was almost immediately drowned by the loud splash of water. For a precious few seconds Oswald stared at the space he’d been in as the concept of knowing Batman’s plans sparked vengeful ideas in his brain. Knowing his schemes... hiding his own… or better yet luring him in with false trails…

Sighing suddenly, he gestured to the struggling figure in the water.

“Get him out before he gets eaten. I’m not done with him yet.”

A clearly surprised look met his statement and his anger flared up.

“I said get him out,” he growled. “Do I have to do everything myself?”

One of his men had at least acted quickly enough to throw down a rope and Ed had eagerly grabbed onto it. Oswald moved to the edge and hauled on it to get him up before Tiny arrived, albeit with generous support on the rope behind him from the quicker on the uptake of his employees. As Ed pulled himself to safety, Oswald turned back to the man who’d hesitated to obey and fixed him with a glare.

“Tiny will be expecting food after all the splashing about,” he suggested, and then shoved him over the side in lieu of Riddler.

He gave no thought to the alarmed cry or pleas from the water, only smiling slightly when he heard the unmistakable sounds indicating his shark had acquired his dinner. Otherwise his attention remained on the dripping individual looking disgruntled at him.

“Come on.” He waved a hand back the way they’d come. “We can talk in my office.”

“We were just  _ in  _ your office,” Ed objected petulantly, albeit beginning to walk. “There was no call for that.”

“Nonsense. When did you last bathe?” Oswald gave him another glance over. “That got rid of the worst of it but some of those stains look positively ground in.”

“You’re one to talk. It looks like you haven’t changed that shirt in a week.”

Abruptly Oswald pulled his cardigan tighter.

“The pigs haven’t exactly let me go home to collect new shirts. And at least I’ve washed.”

“We’re all making do in here now. It only makes sense to trade favours where possible.”

It was an obvious attempt to segue back to his point but Oswald wasn’t inclined to be rushed. The reminder that he was essentially under house arrest now unless he wanted to relinquish his hold on this corner of the city did nothing to calm him. Besides which he had another irritation to raise before they talked business.

“I don’t take kindly to you breezing into my office like you damn well own the place. You can make an appointment like anyone else. Or at least have the common courtesy to knock.”

“Point taken.”

Ed followed him back into the room, obediently stopping between the door and the desk this time, and shivered slightly as he dripped onto the carpet. Oswald glared momentarily before casting his gaze past him back to the thug waiting to be dismissed.

“Fetch a towel and something dry for him to wear.”

The request was primarily because he didn’t want a soggy carpet and he really hadn’t considered it much beyond that. Certainly not to consider the implication of getting Ed something to change into. So when the man began removing his wet jacket and shirt, Oswald felt justified in his startled reaction.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Riddler paused in the act of slipping the sleeves off his arms to glance at him with a puzzled expression.

“You asked them to fetch me dry clothes. Did you expect me to put them on  _ over  _ these?”

“No! But you could at least wait for them to arrive before stripping!”

“Why?” Ed returned his focus to removing his lower garments now. “It's hardly comfortable and I’m assuming you’ve seen a naked man before. Yourself for a start.”

Oswald might have continued to argue the point but he was promptly distracted by the demonstration that Ed went commando. Fixing his eyes angrily on the man’s skinny chest he stared down the incorrigible rogue, determined not to show his discomfort with the situation as Ed clearly wanted. Thankfully his man was back within minutes with a towel and bundle from lost property and Oswald could legitimately switch his attention.

It was obviously a surprise to him to open the door to a naked man but Riddler remained completely unfazed. Given such a precedence, Oswald could hardly do less than convey his own lack of concern with the situation albeit voicing his own viewpoint as a reminder to his men of exactly where he stood.

“What are you staring at? Don’t tell me you’re a fairy. Getting off on ogling men.”

“No Mister Cobblepot,” he exclaimed at once, frightened eyes now fixed respectfully high.

“Hhhmm. Might have to test that later. I need some muscle to test the new recruits against.”

Penguin gestured him impatiently away, satisfied with the damage control for now, but turning irritably again to Nygma who was thankfully covered. Riddler however was ignoring the turmoil he’d caused and was awkwardly surveying himself with a pout.

“Not my usual style but surprisingly comfy.”

“You’re welcome to keep it.”

It was lost cause trying to make Edward recognise the social improprieties he implied without trying. At best he wouldn’t understand the fuss and at worst it would only encourage him to stir up more trouble. Glancing him over, Oswald appreciated that at least the clothing fit him well enough although he was glad everyone would have had a chance to see him dripping wet to explain the need to change otherwise uncomfortable rumours might start. The combat trousers were probably a good find for him though with all those handy pockets. And at least the T-shirt was mercifully plain.

“What did you come for Riddler?”

He retook his own seat at his desk and tried to put his discomfort aside. For his own part, Ed had seemingly gotten over his recent swim already.

“I heard you were issued an eminent domain seizure.”

The remark caused Oswald to narrow his eyes suspiciously.

“Word travels fast,” he commented.

“I keep my ears open.”

Their recent talk of hacking communication signals flickered through his mind before Oswald promptly dismissed it. He hadn’t mentioned that over any radio channel. Therefore it was probably Riddler had picked it up from his employees chatter. Or possibly an informant.

Setting that aside for later consideration he fixed the man with an impassive look.

“I don’t see why that should warrant a visit.”

“I was curious about its effect.”

Ed accompanied his statement with a casual shrug that made Oswald more conscious of a hidden agenda.

“There’s been no effect,” he declared. “I wrote straight back and told them I bought this place legally and they could find somewhere else to stick their prison. This fight is by no means over.”

“Hhmm.”

Oswald wasn’t sure which was worse, the dismissive tone or the fact Ed was more focused on picking up and twirling his blasted cane that had been left on his desk. However he then found he had the man’s attention at much closer range.

“By drips and drops am I worn away though. The slide has already begun. I saw it as I came in. Less patrons, and those there are the less genteel ones. And your balance of staff has tipped too. More muscle than beauty.”

It was a sore point he didn’t need reminding of. The threat of the super prison, despite construction only just starting to the south of them, had frightened his mostly female wait staff away. Apparently they didn’t think the trade of warming his bed was worth what protection he could offer in the new regime. It was a double blow. Firstly to his pride in the doubts of him having the upper hand in running the city and secondly to his libido that was facing a sudden dry spell. Not that he was inclined to discuss that.

“Is that what you came to talk about? My staff changes?”

To his irritation Ed spun away, unbothered by his sour mood.

“No. Not at all. I had a list of a few parts I’d be interested in getting my hands on. Unfortunately it was in my pocket and is undoubtedly ruined now. I’ll have to write it out again and drop it by some other time.”

Abruptly, Oswald realised Ed was leaving and his anger spiked at the nerve of the man, walking in uninvited and now wandering away without a dismissal. Standing suddenly therefore he thumped his hands upon the table.

“Did I say you could go?” he demanded angrily.

He experienced a brief moment of pleasure as Edward stopped short and turned back to him. Then the wretched man smirked.

“Why... do you want me to stay, Oswald?”

The deliberately sultry voice was obviously meant to discompose him and Oswald was doubly annoyed because it worked.

“What? No! But you come and go as  _ I  _ decide.”

“Well then, do I have your  _ permission  _ to go?”

The almost teasing question left Oswald feeling wrong footed once again.

“Yes. I didn’t even want you here in the first place.”

“Huh, well in that case. I suppose I should ask your permission to come next time.”

An arched eyebrow indicated the question rather than his words but Oswald still felt he was missing something.

“Yes alright. If you want me to source parts for you, you better bring a list.”

“Excellent. I shall definitely come prepared in that case.”

Finally he continued on his way leaving Oswald in some semblance of peace. His blood was undeniably up however and he cursed the distracting rogue viciously before remembering he had other viable targets to take his frustrations out on.

With the tide turning in Arkham City, it was definitely time to test some recruits in the gladiator pit. There were few things as stress relieving as blood sports after all, and certainly none available to him right now, which only made his blood lust keener.


	3. Chapter 3

If there was one thing Oswald prided himself on, it was his survivor’s instincts. They’d helped him thrive in the dark alleys of London as much as the capitalist streets of Gotham. He’d developed a good judgement of when to apply brute force, dig his heels in with stubborn determination or smile and grease the right palms with cold hard cash.

Right now he’d seemingly passed the opportunity of the third option working which was actually a relief because his patience was drawing thin. Yet it was too soon to deploy violence as an appropriate answer. Just the foreboding of that atmosphere had already driven the respectable and socially influential people away, right when he needed support most. And not merely the public support he wanted but the private comforts he relied on to keep his temper even.

There was not a woman to be had in his residence now and he had begun to regret maintaining his standards. Then again the Penguin had an image to maintain still if he expected to keep his eminent position. He couldn’t share harlots with the riff raff and if he was to claim any for his own use then they had to be of exceptional beauty.

The thoughts were taking up entirely too much of his mind but with the waiting game currently being enacted there was little else to occupy him except the inevitable stockpiling and territorial marking. That and prying into his neighbours affairs of course which at least alleviated his frustrations somewhat.

Although his temper was naturally worse than ever right now so an interruption to his careful map analysing got an angry bark more than anything coherent.

“It's the Riddler, Sir,” his jittery bouncer called. “Requesting to see you.”

Everything about the interaction irritated Oswald immediately. The hesitance of his employee, who was specifically employed to deal with exactly this situation. The ill timed disturbance that broke what had been, he was sure, a promising line of thought. And the identity of his guest, who Oswald just knew would rile him the moment he opened his ridiculously wide mouth. Nevertheless he resolved to face it head on and stomped over to wrench open the door in a fashion he hoped would at least convey the busyness the man had interrupted. However that didn’t take into account the inherent self centredness of Nygma himself and he merely strolled into the room with equitable audacity. Oswald turned to glare after him, absentmindedly shutting the door on his escort’s face.

“Well?” Ed said as he reached the desk and turned himself to face Oswald again.

“Well what?”

For his own part Oswald gave up on impressing his authority and simply headed back round to what he was doing, focusing once more on his priorities.

“I announced myself properly, just like you asked. Don’t I even get a ‘thank you’ for my efforts?”

The long suffering look Ed received should have amply conveyed Oswald’s disinterest in playing his game and apparently did as Riddler returned to the reason for his visit.

“I brought a preliminary list of parts,” he said, extracting a page from his pocket. “Nothing fancy. Just the basics.”

Taking it from him Oswald could see nothing especially abnormal. Certainly nothing that would give him a hint to anything Riddler was working on. He continued perusing it as Ed carried on talking.

“I’m drawing up some more ambitious plans. And have already expressed interest to the Broker in purchasing a few properties in this area.”

“You haven’t forgotten the blueprints for the communication jammers?” Oswald demanded abruptly.

Ed pouted, although whether at the implication or the derailment of his conversation was unclear.

“All in good time,” he huffed.

The remark was enough to bring Oswald’s prior frustration flaring back. Quite deliberately he threw the list haphazardly to the side of his desk. It clipped his half finished glass of whiskey and came to a stop by his over flowing ashtray.

“I don’t do credit,” he enunciated clearly. “I have a reputation to uphold. You pay, you get the goods. Otherwise, no dice.”

There was a moment where Ed merely stared intently at him and very briefly Oswald worried what he’d see. Nygma was far more observant and perceptive than most of his colleagues. He watched as Riddler's knowing eyes flickered between the signs of stress apparent upon his desk, the decanter left out ready to refill his drink and the ends of cigars pilled unreasonably high in their open glass coffin. Seconds later however he relaxed and folded his arms expectantly.

“Alright. What information do you want?”

This time Oswald pursed his lips and lowered his gaze to think. Having not been expecting Riddler’s visit he hadn’t got an answer prepared. Then his eyes fell back onto the scribbled map and the answer came to him.

"I've tracked most of our illustrious colleagues.” He gestured vaguely and was aware of Ed shifting closer to cast his glance over. “But not Crane. He  _ may _ be dead but somehow I doubt it. Scarecrow can cause an awful lot of problems left unchecked. I want to know where he’s got to."

"I don't know where he is."

The unexpectedly straight answer surprised Oswald into meeting Ed’s gaze again. He found himself gritting his teeth in irritation however as it was not the reply he wanted to hear.

"Well find out,” he growled.

Edward’s eyes narrowed back at him contemplatively.

“Can I at least take what items you have in stock here? I’ll be much more efficient if I know I have that in hand.”

“No. No info, no parts."

Even he was aware that he was being deliberately difficult now but Oswald wanted to take out his anger on someone and Ed was making himself an irresistible target. Any other time and he may very well have allowed a loan with an agreed repayment. It was obvious Ed knew that too since he’d received such concessions previously.

"Maybe I could offer something else this time? A make fill if you will."

As he spoke, Edward cautiously moved closer with the clear intention of surveying the map laid out and Oswald scooted his chair out a little to give him space to do so. Peripherally he was aware of the subtle but still distinctive odour, predominantly machine oil, that was unique to Edward. Thankfully it was less offensive than previously and he wondered if lack of parts had significantly reduced his work load.

He was broken from this train of thought by the realisation that Ed wasn’t leaning over the desk but had instead stationed himself next to where he was sitting. There were long fingers poised on the back of the chair near his neck, tapping almost unconsciously contemplatively and accidentally brushing his hairline on every other pass.

“You look stressed.”

A humourless bark of laughter broke out of Oswald.

“Now why would you think that? Could it be the fact I am surrounded by enemies on all sides, some more open than others, and my network is being cut off and lured away piece by piece!” He slammed his hand down drawing his attention once again to the names inked in front of him, in particular one now viciously scratched out.

“Even Ratcatcher thought he could muscle into my market! At least he’s been dealt with easily but what does it say when such a bottom feeder feels entitled to eat from your plate?”

“Hhhmm.”

While Ed considered whatever thoughts it was that went through his head, Oswald found himself gritting his teeth again at the mess in front of him. Boundaries drawn and redrawn, names marked with question marks all over, and curiously devoid patches which contained who knows what threats.

“You think best when you’re not so tense.”

Ed accompanied his statement by kneeling suddenly and Oswald reacted instinctively. In bare seconds he had a switchblade to the man’s neck.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

Ed had arched his neck back but otherwise showed no sign of retreating and continued to meet Oswald’s gaze head on.

“Helping you relax so you can be more efficient.” As that didn’t earn him a reprieve he narrowed his own eyes. “Do you really think I’d incapacitate you? How foolish would that be when I need your supply chains?”

The comment was logical and Riddler did pride himself on his, admittedly sometimes skewed, logic so Oswald conceded momentarily by lowering the knife. He didn’t put it away though and kept a wary eye on his guest. For his own part, Ed appeared to be weighing up his next move. Then, keeping his eyes fixed on Oswald’s face, he quite deliberately moved his hand under the chair’s armrest and into his lap.

There was no way Oswald’s shock didn’t show on his face but Ed maintained his own calm demeanour even as he began lightly rubbing Oswald’s crotch.

“What are you doing?” Oswald hissed for the second time, albeit much quieter now.

“Surely you’ve heard of an Eton handshake?”

“I never went to Eton,” Oswald bit back.

“Neither did I but I know this was as common as a hearty slap on the back.”

Ed spoke as if this was just a light party conversation, utterly unbothered by his hand now stroking a firm outline as Oswald’s cock hardened despite his wishes. The infuriating man continued talking even while Oswald found it difficult to gather his breath to do so. He was not accustomed to self denial and it had certainly been longer than he’d have liked. Particularly since he was touched like this, most of his partners needing his own direction and urging.

“Endorphins can increase 200% during sexual activity and they act to reduce stress and pain. It’s by far the easiest and quickest route to a natural high.”

“Shut up.”

Oswald inhaled deeply, letting his eyes shut and trying to distance the pleasant feelings from his companion. If Edward could just stay quiet then Oswald could pretend it wasn’t him at all and simply enjoy the feelings. The prospect of rejecting the advances at this stage was a lost cause. It felt too good with the tactile sensation of someone else touching him, not to mention the emotional lure of someone else wanting to do so.

The unpredictability stepped up a gear as in the silence the sound of his zipper being undone seemed unreasonably loud. Briefly, Oswald twitched to return his knife to Ed’s throat. Touching through clothes was one thing. A tailor might even do as much. Well, maybe not  _ as  _ much but it still felt excusable. Yet skin to skin was something else.

‘Something else’ though turned out to be an understatement as the warm rough palm of Edward wrapped itself unhesitantly about him and instead Oswald nearly dropped the blade as he gasped. He thought he heard a slight laugh next to him but it might have been his own huffed breath.

The hand was determined in its movements but not predictable. Although Oswald could categorise the experience as basically just a version of masturbation, there was no denying the thrill of not knowing what would be done next. Plus, Edward had much longer fingers than his own which enabled him to reach all the way round Oswald’s girth with ease. Where Oswald tended to focus on brisk tight pulls to reach his desired end, Ed clearly didn’t. He loosened his hold occasionally to brush his fingertips over the balls, veins and head, paying particular attention to the slit.

All in all it was an edifying experience in ways of pleasure that Oswald was disappointed came to an end too suddenly. Despite holding back, the teasing touches caught him by surprise again and he shot his load with a drawn out groan of satisfaction. If he’d deigned to open his eyes he might have caught Ed’s smug smile but perhaps thankfully he remained oblivious to that, instead sinking bonelessly further into his chair.

There was the sound of shifting before a cloth dabbed at him and he was put away. Strangely this action brought a new flood of heat to his cheeks that he hoped would be dismissed as exertion. He clung onto his bubble of denial for as long as possible while he considered his next move. It was imperative Ed didn’t get any wrong ideas about this. His body had reacted as bodies do. It meant nothing  _ who  _ had been on the other end of the hand. It may as well have been a sex toy for the connection he felt.

Snapping his eyes open he resolved to tell Ed as much, only to face the man’s back where he was now perusing the map. For some reason the dismissive attitude of the man irked him although he reluctantly noted his aggression was at a far lower level now.

“You’d do much better laying this out on a war table with movable pieces for the various groups.”

“What?”

In reply Ed pointed at something Oswald couldn’t see from his seat. He forced himself upright, only to have the sight of his own cum streaking the map along the Bowery arrest his eyes.

“All these drawn and redrawn lines are barely understandable  _ now _ ,” Ed persisted. “A few weeks and this will be more confusing than enlightening. Maybe use string on a pinned up board or something.”

“I’ll take it under consideration.”

There was something extremely disconcerting about Ed’s casual dismissal of what had just happened. Oswald felt caught between wanting to brush it under the carpet as well but also burning with an instinct to clarify his own heterosexual position. Not that Ed was in any position to throw insults on that score Oswald decided. He’d been the one on his knees after all. Oswald had done nothing.

“Can I take those parts now?” Ed broke their silence. “Get started on everything.”

“Yes, fine.”

Oswald waved a hand dismissively, deciding that out of sight and out of mind was the best solution right now.

“Excellent.” Riddler snatched up his list. “I’ll hand this to one of your men to gather it up. Do you mind if I borrow some to carry it?”

“No. Just get out of here. I have things of my own to do.”

“Fine.” Ed strolled to the door. “I’ll be back for the extra parts and maybe to drop off a more specific list in a few days.”

“Make sure you have something to trade next time,” Oswald grouched, regretting skirting the subject almost immediately.

He received a wave of acknowledgement before the prince of puzzles was finally gone from his sight. Oswald contemplated his next move with more energy than before. A war room style lay out for the war about to erupt sounded a capital idea and he knew just the place to set it up. Averting his eyes therefore he rolled up his map and headed away to recreate its layout before disposing of the soiled original.

There was something to this style of stress relief and he mentally noted to allow himself more time to unwind in private over the next few days.


	4. Chapter 4

Oswald was quite proud of his war room. It didn’t have the grand table he’d initially envisaged but in practice that had proved untenable. His own stature made it awkward to see properly and therefore even more problematic to maneuver pieces across. Not that he cited those complaints when instructing his men to clear the space. It was far easier to declare the table an inappropriate shape and size for representing the city. That and the disappointment of not being able to source proper topological landscape features to develop the scene as he would have wished.

The alternative he’d decided upon was all round much better though. Why utilise a table at all when the floor provided a much more suitable canvas? It had been a matter of pride for him to be able to sketch out the relevant city plan from memory alone. He’d almost enjoyed wandering about the floor with a can of paint, literally bringing the city to heel.

His smile had fallen somewhat as the reality of the territorial disputes settled back over him and he began laying out markers for his main competitors. Penguins for himself naturally, deactivated chattering teeth for Joker, and whatever else he could lay his hands on in sufficient numbers for everyone else. His patience had run out in personalization for his enemies by then. They could have trash and be grateful he was acknowledging them at all.

Eventually standing back from his creation, he relished in the feeling of control he felt. He could almost see his plans forming in the mock up city streets. Places where his thugs could out maneuver and corner those of his near neighbour Two Face for example. The former lawyer had already taken over the old court house from its previous occupant and was settling in.

Joker was going to be a more elusive foe to entrap. It was by no means clear what his current state of health was following the debacle of his Arkham Asylum takeover and the word on the street was he might even be at death’s door. Oswald knew not to think that meant he’d be easy prey however. If anything it made him likely to be even more unpredictable than usual and possibly foolishly reckless. He wouldn’t put it past the clown to want to go out in a blaze of glory.

Yet, regardless of his physical and mental state, his strategy clearly hadn’t suffered. His choice of retreat was highly secure, well defended, and tucked away beyond a host of loyal thugs. As much as any thugs were loyal anyway.

While contemplating his contingency plans for Joker therefore, Oswald had set up a board with the location outline, photos, and key points noted. He was staring intently at it trying to see the loose thread that needed pulling or the chink in the armour when he was startled by a voice from behind him.

“People seem to think if Joker dies Harley will take over.”

It was a deep rooted stubbornness not to let anyone see him flustered that kept Oswald from swinging round or yelling. That and the fact he currently didn’t have a weapon to hand. He had been relatively relaxed, no jacket or tie, shirt sleeves rolled up as he worked. Of course now he was tensed like a coiled spring so he inhaled carefully before replying.

“It’s funny,” he mused, “but I don’t recall you making an appointment.”

Predictably, Ed ignored the implied rebuke.

“I found the Mad Hatter.”

Oswald turned to look at him and saw him surveying his drawn out city plan. Seeing Oswald watching, he pointed with the end of his cane.

“He’s holed up in a set of rooms tucked away from the main points of contention.”

While he appreciated the information, Oswald wasn’t sure of the purpose behind it and frowned.

“What’s that got to do with anything? Hatter’s never been a big player in control of the city.”

“You asked me for Scarecrow’s location,” Ed reminded him. “Sooner or later he’ll turn up on Jervis’ doorstep. Rumour is he’s in the city somewhere but lying low after his run-in with Croc but I doubt he’s ready to make a play for the city just yet.”

“Not very concrete payment is it?” Oswald crossed his arms. “Hunches and rumours.”

“You want something more tangible?” Ed proposed and Oswald couldn’t help but tense again.

He’d pushed aside any memory of Ed’s ‘payment’ to him last time. An aberration in his life. A slip of judgement due to tiredness and frustration. Anyone would have done the same in his situation. The only subsequent thought he’d entertained was the resolution to demand proper payment this time round. Yet now he couldn’t help but feel a frisson of excitement at the prospect of a reenactment. Especially as the taller man advanced towards him.

Then he blinked in surprise as a roll of paper was produced from inside the green jacket with a flourish.

“Ta da. Blueprints for the Sionis Steelworks. Now that has to be worth the price of parts.”

Oswald would argue later, to himself at least, that it was merely his propensity for driving a hard bargain that provoked his response.

“Hardly. You’ve saved me time in getting them that’s all.”

“But time is money, don’t they say?”

“Maybe so but they’re definitely not at an equal exchange rate.”

“Fine.” Edward conceded the argument with a huff as he folded his arms petulantly. “What else do you want? I assume you have something in mind?”

Perhaps it was the lilt of suggestion, or the quirk of his eyebrow, but Oswald’s thoughts flashed again to Edward’s actions on the previous visit. With the possibility of a repeat performance before him, the argument that the gender of the person whose hand was on him didn’t really make any difference seemed rock solid. Just as another part of his anatomy was on the way to becoming.

A flicker of Ed’s eyes showed he’d noticed the reaction and his subsequent smile showed he’d deduced the obvious conclusion. As he stepped forward however Oswald automatically stepped back, unintentionally hitting the wall, and snapped out a warning.

“Don’t go getting the wrong idea from this. I’m not a fag. I’m just used to more frequent sex.”

His choice of derogative term clearly registered with Ed, as did his retreat, and he paused to consider him. The realisation that Ed might refuse to oblige him crossed his mind and he hesitated himself as pride competed with rising lust.

“But one hand is very like another. And I’ll admit I prefer someone else’s participation.”

The concession had the right effect since Ed smiled again and continued his advance.

“One hand is very like another,” Ed agreed, now close enough to press the heel of his palm against the bulge and rub. “And having someone else lends a novelty you can’t replicate alone. But I would argue there are strong advantages to a man giving pleasure to another man. He knows from personal experience what feels good for a start.”

He tried to emphasise his point by rolling his hips forward but as soon as Oswald felt the first press of his hardness into the soft swell of his stomach he grabbed the thin hips and held them away from him.

“Try anything gay like that again and I’ll slit your throat.”

“My throat hhmm?” Ed seemed entirely unconcerned by the threat. “That would be a shame. Perhaps you’d like to see what you’d be missing out on if you did that?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before sinking down to his knees, Oswald hands releasing him out of sheer shock as he realised the intent. His heart thudded loudly as he stared down at the man now kneeling reverentially before him and he felt a surge of unexpected elation. Surely only at having someone so renowned, almost his equal in fact, assume such a submissive pose. It was certainly enough to prevent his natural objection.

Because he knew he wanted to object. It was very obviously gay to be sucked off by another man, wasn’t it? Though with those deft fingers making short work of his trouser fastenings the prior argument echoed ever more strongly within him. If one hand was like another, surely a mouth was too? And it wasn’t Oswald touching a man’s dick. He’d put a stop to that already so really there was no doubting  _ his  _ credentials. It could even be argued that it was proof of his superior manliness that he had Riddler in this humiliating position.

Then Ed’s moist mouth slid over his head and all rational thoughts flew out the window.

Closing his eyes was a deliberate reaction. He’d been given head before by sundry women he’d bedded but he realised now that it had been perfunctory at best. Prescribed motions, often needing adjusting by his own hands, and always done under instruction. This though was very different and Oswald briefly contemplated if that was indeed because Ed knew from experience what was good. That idea however sent his mind to images of Ed practising this on others and he couldn’t stop a low growl before forcing the thought away, insisting to himself he didn’t want such homosexual pictures to confuse matters.

Instead he focused on the physical sensations. Previous experience would have left him expecting swift bobbing and regular sucking but nothing about this was expected. For a start the lips were not content to merely wrap around him but wandered up and down the shaft placing teasing kisses from root to tip. Then a sinfully long tongue curled itself about his glans like it was going at a melting popsicle. It was when the teeth were employed on his most sensitive spots, which Ed seemed to have unerringly found, that Oswald realised he should remind the man that this was for a purpose.

Still he couldn’t help but let out a low moan of pleasure as he slipped back inside that wide mouth, now even more stimulated than the first time, and kept sliding right in. He knew he wasn’t overly long but he was generously wide and it was something of a test to hold Ed in place as he asserted his dominance again. Reluctantly, Oswald conceded it was the best blow job he could recall as he tightened his grip in the short hair and got no complaint. He could feel the tongue press against him as he swallowed, patiently letting Oswald enjoy the warm wetness.

A few breaths later though and he eased his grip. It only took Ed a second to figure out he was now free to move and he set to work. Once again he was clearly focused on demonstrating his skill set and a part of Oswald bristled at letting Riddler show off in any fashion. However at least he was kept mercifully silent this way so any boasting would wait. Or not quite silent. Despite having his mouth fully occupied Oswald could still hear what appeared to be muttered phrases coming from below. All interspersed with moans and groans as Ed undeniably enjoyed his subjugation. But Oswald couldn’t in the moment bring himself to care. It felt too good.

He was never silent about his own feelings either and although he might have wished to bite his tongue, the rush got the better of him. Not that he was really aware of his own babbling either.

“Yes… good… take it… like that… suck it…  _ suck it… _ urgh… yeah… yeah… yeah…”

The precipice came fast and it was an unpremeditated action to pull himself out so his ejaculate coated Edward’s surprised face. Looking down through his blissful haze, Oswald felt a possessive triumph in the humiliating spectacle. Then Ed’s face shuddered, his jaw dropping further open and all the saliva and cum catching the light distractingly even as everything scrunched up. A moment later Oswald realised Ed was cumming as well, his unutilised hands this time giving himself pleasure while his mouth had been occupied with Oswald. He found himself watching hypnotically until the weird spell was broken by Ed distastefully wiping his soiled hand with a pocket handkerchief.

Briskly, Oswald tidied himself up and maneuvered himself out from their close encounter. Determinedly ignoring the other man, he strode back towards his floor plan, forcing his wobbly legs to stand firm. Although he looked over his domain however, his attention was attuned to Ed shuffling about and regaining his feet.

“You can collect the rest of your parts on the way out.” He spoke with a dismissive tone over his shoulder. “But I shall expect progress on those communication jammers you promised soon.”

“I’ll need some more high tech bits and pieces too.”

Oswald felt a shiver as he heard the hoarseness to Ed’s voice.

“You can drop a list round.” He coughed without really needing to. “We can discuss further payments next time as well.”

In his head the remark had sounded far more business like than it did out loud and he dared not turn to look at Ed. If the prancing fairy dared call him on it though he’d skewer him where he stood to remind him of his place. Unfortunately even in his head that sounded suggestive as well and he grit his teeth in frustration at himself. Thankfully, Riddler seemed disinclined to cause him any more problems.

“Fair enough. I’ll show myself out then.”

He listened to the receding footsteps with relief. These meetings certainly relieved one sort of tension but they still left Oswald on edge. Now he was alone again however he enjoyed the lassitude that came with sexual release. When he was sure he wouldn’t trip over the man on his way, he’d head back to his office for a cigar. In the meantime he let his gaze sweep the city map.

The thought belatedly occurred to him that in all his planning, he’d never thought to pinpoint Riddler’s hideaway. Possibly he should ask next time. Or maybe not. The man was hardly a threat after all. Just a posturing pansy who could be bribed with a dick. And Oswald had always prided himself on knowing someone’s price. Now he knew Ed’s and it was only sensible to use it to advantage.

He hummed as he strolled contentedly back up to his office, content that he had everything under control.


	5. Chapter 5

Street toughened, hired muscle fled his path as Oswald stormed along the museum corridors. If he’d had half an ounce of attention to spare it might have soothed his sour mood to see men twice his size terrified of his wrath. Yet this time he was too fixated on the person he was going to deal with to truly notice.

“Edward Nygma” he spat venomously as he finally turned into the dead end corridor the man was occupied in. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Truthfully, his reaction was probably excessive for the transgression. Riddler was well known for sneaking in where he wasn’t invited and setting up his little traps. Oswald usually didn’t mind over much and had even been amused watching some of his men fail to navigate them on occasion. Now however, the very presence of Nygma, the mention of his name even, seemed enough to rile him to a near boiling point. He put it down to the stressful situation they were all facing as the prison wall loomed ever closer to completion.

For his own part Edward looked positively pleased to see him despite the fury writ large across his battle worn features.

“Oswald! I got my hands on some turret guns our future guards will be using. High tech, motion sensitive, self aiming and nigh impossible to circumvent.”

“And you chose to install it here? In  _ my  _ bloody museum where I might have walked right into the sodding thing?”

“It’s hardly on a main thoroughfare and I was going to warn you.” Ed waved dismissively, returning his attention to tightening the screws on the mounting. “And it’s not just here. I have them set up all over as part of my elaborate scheme to defeat the Bat.”

Oswald stared past the occupied rogue to the far end of the corridor where amongst the discarded display pieces he could see a distinctive question mark trophy.

“By challenging him to a bizarre sort of Easter egg treasure hunt? Rather childish isn’t it?” he sneered.

That drew the man’s attention back and Ed frowned in displeasure.

“The treasure hunt is merely a distraction. This is a war of attrition. I wear him down with a plethora of puzzles and traps that on their own aren’t difficult but which lure him into making a fatal underestimation when he finally faces my  _ true  _ challenge.”

He chose to ignore that particular argument to focus on what was currently bothering him, namely Edward in his domain unannounced.

“Did it never occur to you to  _ ask  _ first before setting up your little trap?”

“I thought you’d be pleased,” Ed countered breezily. “After all, its free installation of a few extra armaments against intruders.”

The sheer hypocrisy of Edward sneaking in himself to set up defences against  _ other  _ people sneaking in seemed to be lost on the man and Oswald found himself biting back another snappy remark. It wouldn’t do him any good. Ed had never believed he was supposed to follow rules laid down for common folk. He couldn’t hold his tongue entirely however.

"Do you even know how to be anything other than irritating?"

Ed smirked at the retort even as he stepped away from his completed handiwork, wiping grease off his hands with a rag.

"I can be many things," he replied, suddenly fixing his gaze on Oswald. "Would you prefer me seductive instead?"

All Oswald’s emotions burst out of him with the flirtatious remark and he surged forward with every intention of beating Ed for his insinuation. His fists clenched in the loose edges of his open shirt and he pushed him hard back against the wall. Then he faltered as he recognised the shirt underneath as the one he’d lent Ed after his near encounter with Tiny. Whether the reminder of that occasion and his realisation of Ed’s usefulness stopped his assault, or something less tangible such as the scent of sweat he got close range, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he found his hands holding them entirely too close for comfort even as he darted a glance up into Ed’s face.

In hindsight that was definitely his biggest mistake. Ed’s breath had been knocked out of him with the forceful shove and his expression was wide eyed as he anticipated what Oswald might do next. It all gave Oswald far too many ideas for possibilities that he wished he’d never had time to consider. It only took a few seconds for Ed also to register the change in atmosphere and Oswald panicked when he saw his mouth open, undoubtedly with a question or smug remark, and so he did the most obvious thing to keep him quiet. He kissed him.

Although ‘kiss’ was perhaps an overly generous term for the action. He yanked Ed’s face down to his, bit his lip sharply and then took advantage of the pained gasp to shove his tongue in. Ed almost choked in response but he wasn’t slow in responding. Instead of resisting the pressure Ed adapted to it, suckling on his tongue in a way that was entirely too recognisable. Oswald became immediately aware of his own uncomfortable arousal and unintentionally pressed forward to gain some relief.

His erection was riding against Edward’s thigh and it was good, a nice warm surface easily slotting between his legs, but it wasn’t good enough. Not with the memory of wetness and all encompassing heat bestowed previously. He growled low in his throat, tongue still receiving the attention he now desperately wanted elsewhere, and he awkwardly began fumbling with his belt and flies.

Ed pulled away from his mouth as he realised what Oswald was doing and stared down between them to watch the big reveal. No-one had ever looked so excited at the prospect of seeing him unveiled and it brought a smirk to Oswald’s lips.

Which was promptly wiped off as Ed seemingly couldn’t restrain himself and grasped Oswald by the shoulders to roughly reverse their position. The shock of hitting the wall stole his breath for a second which was enough time to rationalise the manoeuvre as giving Ed the necessary space to kneel. However he abruptly realised that wasn’t what Ed had in mind as he saw him deftly open his own pants as well. Perhaps Oswald would have had time to come to his senses if Ed didn’t habitually go commando but by the time he’d understood what was going on, Ed had dipped his knees either side of Oswald’s thighs to balance against the wall, bringing his own lithe length in hand and together with Oswald’s.

There were then too many sensations for Oswald to have a hope of thinking clearly. First and foremost it felt incredibly arousing to have another erection pulsing alongside his, the heads catching together as Ed found the right position. Then there was the rough friction from Ed’s hand again, this time slickened not only from their own slick but by the film of grease still left on him. And it was hotter than his hand had been, an almost feverish heat that he felt permeating deep into him. All accompanied this time by the weight of a hot sinuous body brushing deliciously against his stomach and thighs. He almost wished for more skin contact as the teasing press of unfairly long legs and too light torso was not nearly enough.

Closing his eyes to avoid seeing just who was giving this pleasure Oswald succumbed to the moment and let out a string of expletives. His hands gripped the thin arms bruisingly tight in a clear indication not to stop or dare leaving. He could feel the huffs of breath puffed against his ear where his partner had ducked his head and suddenly felt compelled to taste that mouth again. Maybe just to prevent any embarrassing vocalisation but he could also admit to enjoying the sensual pleasure.

This kiss was far more wanton on his part, luring the dexterous tongue to explore his own mouth and enjoying the combination of flavours, predominantly coffee and cigars. Without sight he could easily detach the masculinity of his paramour from the person under his lips. They were chapped it was true, but somehow the thinness spoke to him of femininity. And thankfully the face and chin brushing against his own was hairless.

Yet for all that, the focus of his pleasure remained undeniably male. His own hardness matched with another solid hardness. Equal arousals measured in rigidity if not length or girth. He found his own shorter erection twisted in just the right way so his tip hit into the ridge of the other and it brought him barrelling to his climax. The kiss broke with a sloppy confusion of lips and tongues as Oswald gasped and grunted his way through orgasm.

He ducked his head to avoid any attempt to reclaim his lips while he breathed heavily and kept his eyes closed to cling onto his untenable deceit. Yet that crumbled immediately as he was dragged out of his brief disassociation by the continuing stroking of his overly sensitive dick. He could feel Ed was still hard but his lips twisted irritably since the oblivious idiot hadn’t thought to release him once he’d come. With an aim therefore of wrenching the man’s hand away from him, Oswald reached somewhat clumsily between them.

Ed must have noticed the movement at least although apparently he misinterpreted the gesture since he released his grip just as Oswald moved to grab him, leaving Oswald instead, for the first time in his life, clutching another man’s erection. Several things happened almost at once. His own spent member thankfully fell free of the stimulation, giving Oswald a wave of relief, but also Ed let out the most visceral growl of pleasure Oswald had ever had the privilege of hearing. The knowledge that he’d caused that, merely by holding his dick, sent a heady thrill of power through him and his lips curled into a smirk. He therefore began a brisk motion up and down to see if he couldn’t get more noises out of him.

Ed’s hands, now free, landed with a thump either side of Oswald’s head as he supported himself. An obvious shudder ran through him and actual curses began tumbling from his lips. It was in its way entrancing and Oswald couldn’t help but stare with some amazement down, somehow shocked to realise he was doing this to him. He would never have thought watching someone else ejaculate could hold any fascination but seeing it jerking as it rutted in his loose grip was weirdly hypnotic.

Right until he realised the mess they’d made on their shirts.

“Bugger.”

With no shame at all he grabbed the dangling ends of Ed’s t-shirt and used it to wipe his hand and clear what he could of the stringy mess from his own belly.

“Hey.” Ed’s objection was half hearted at best and he only staggered back when Oswald was done anyway.

“It was your mess,” Oswald argued as he refastened his own pants and pulled himself upright. Vaguely he heard Ed complain in response but he could hardly pay any attention to that as the realisation of just where they were struck him. His face drained with the sudden understanding that any of his men could have seen them. If a single one of them had needed to pass along the hallway at the end of the corridor it would have been impossible to miss the sight of them. Fornicating in a dingy corridor like alley dogs.

“No-one passed by.”

Ed’s voice was quiet and a glance showed he was cautious of Oswald’s reaction. And rightly so. Anger welled up in place of the fear of mortification, and he grit his teeth at the instinct to throttle Ed, but a part of him didn’t dare get that close again. He couldn’t honestly be sure of what it would lead to.

For once Ed read the social cue correctly and took a conciliatory step back.

“I best get going. We can discuss our trade agreement next time. You can keep this gun installation. Call it a gift as I needed to test the wiring configuration.”

“Just… get out of here.”

He received a final nod before Ed walked away. Oswald listened to the receding footsteps but turned his gaze onto the shiny new turret gun affixed to the middle of the ceiling. Guns were something familiar and safe compared to whatever the hell was going on between him and Edward now. He let his mind catalogue the capabilities of the weapon while his body calmed down from its recent excitement.

A heavy tread approaching announced the return of one of his men and he unintentionally tensed in case it was known what had happened here. Unlikely given the terror they all had of interrupting him, especially when he was either mad or dealing with business, which the arrival of Riddler had qualified as. Added to which Ed had said no-one saw them and if anyone could simultaneously unravel physically while still being mentally cognisant enough to keep watch it was Riddler.

“What did the fairy want Boss?”

Penguin turned slowly, jarred by the question especially in light of his thoughts on Ed’s abilities of multi tasking.

“What did you call him?”

“Well,” a look of anxiety showed clearly in the man’s eyes, “you always-”

That was all Oswald needed to hear before his hair trigger temper snapped.

“And you thought you were on our level? That it was appropriate for  _ you  _ to use such names for one who is so far your superior as to be laughable?”

“Riddler ain’t so tough.” The shoulders flexed probably unconsciously. “I could snap him like a twig.”

“Really?” Oswald took a moment to extract a cigar from a pocket. “Well, shall we see if you could even  _ get  _ to him first? You wanted to know what he was doing right?” He pointed with the unlit cigar towards the trophy. “He left that. Go pick it up.”

His witless employee looked almost amused at the instruction and stepped boldly forward to do as asked. The first laser pierced through his shoulder. The second through the centre of his chest and Oswald was able to use it to light his cigar. He nodded to himself even as the man lay bleeding at his feet.

“Not a bad gift. Perhaps I should even thank him next time.”


	6. Chapter 6

One of his men made the spot but Oswald wasn’t fool enough to be congratulatory about it. Despite what the idiot thought, he’d only seen Riddler because Ed had wanted to be noticed. As he stepped into the street outside the Lounge Oswald heard the compulsive rogue before he saw him and his appreciation for his guards fell further still.

Riddler had constructed some sort of trap around one of his ubiquitous trophies which Oswald couldn’t bother to puzzle out. Doubtless it was ridiculously and needlessly fiddly. And for what? Slowing the Dark Knight down? In some respects Ed struck him as a cat that liked to play with its food. Except this particular mouthful had a tendency to stick in the throat.

Ignoring that for the moment, Oswald coughed to get the man’s attention. If he’d assumed it would catch him by surprise he would have been disappointed but he’d already figured Ed likewise knew he’d arrived before that. Unlike his bat traps, Oswald could see the intricate lines laid out for him to weave as he would. The positioning just on the edge of his personal space that could be acknowledged or ignored as Oswald chose. The activity that likewise might be read as interfering on his territory or swept aside as irrelevant.

He would not say it but he appreciated having control of this particular encounter. After last time he needed to know he was the one pulling these strings. There was no shame in showing one’s emotions, and he knew exactly how to funnel them for maximum effect, but that did not mean he wanted to be at the mercy of them.

At the sound of his throat clearing, Ed had glanced over with a faux air of surprise and turned to wander across. Oswald couldn’t help but notice him once again wiping his hands on a rag but quickly raised his gaze and took a deliberate puff on his cigar before addressing him.

“Riddler. A word.”

Without awaiting a response, and almost certain Ed knew he was in fact being answered rather than asked, he turned and headed back inside. The walk across the Lounge to his office this time was weighty with a sense of foreboding. He’d like to pretend it was merely the normally bustling room echoing with emptiness as their footsteps crossed it but that might be a lie too far at this stage. Still, he couldn’t help his aggrieved look around at the deserted place, silently cursing events that had trapped him in this corner.

He shook the thought away once he reached his room though and focused once again on his invited guest. Ed was casually dressed again, obviously wearing clothes suitable for his mechanical work. He also seemed unusually willing to let Oswald take the lead in the conversation, perhaps anxious of the reception given the lack of hints he’d received thus far.

Feeling a satisfaction in having the upper hand, Oswald took a final draw on his cigar and snuffed it out before casually removing his own jacket to drape over the back of his chair.

“I have some rules,” he began firmly. “If this is going to happen then it stays behind closed doors. Understand? We could have been seen last time. And you do not breathe a word about it.”

The relaxation in Ed’s shoulders was obvious even before the slow smile crawled across his face.

“Absolutely. I was hardly about to suggest publicising our relationship.”

Oswald stared hard at him, not entirely happy with his casual attitude.

“Let’s get one thing straight, I’m not gay. This isn’t a relationship. You’re just a convenient substitute. You’re not special.”

It was apparent that hit some sort of nerve as frown lines appeared on the tall man’s brow.

“Hhmm. But you’re not doing this with anyone else are you?”

It may have been phrased as a question but it clearly wasn’t. Oswald bristled.

“It's none of your damn business if I have or haven’t.”

“Oh I’d say I had a right to an interest” Ed stepped forward to brace his hands on the desk and look across at him, “if I was considering swallowing next time.”

No amount of stoicism would have concealed Oswald’s reaction to that statement as his pupils dilated and his breath quickened. At the closer range Ed could hardly fail to see how he was affected so Oswald decided to give in to the way things were going, for now at least.

“I think that’s enough talking. You should put that mouth to better use.”

He surged forward to grab at those lanky arms but Ed was quick enough to evade his grasp, standing back up straight to peer down at him.

“Uh uh. Not until you answer me. Has there been anyone else? I may be a convenience but I’m not a fool. I’ll not contract anything from any of your hookers second hand.”

“No,” Oswald growled, frustration growing with the delay and the conversation. “And I used protection with all the women. Didn’t want any brats being blamed on me.”

“Good.”

With that, Ed abandoned his own show of restraint and stalked round to shove Oswald down into his chair. He might have objected to the action except for the sight of Ed immediately sinking to kneel between his legs and reaching for his trousers. Although he wasn’t fully hard yet there was no hiding his arousal once the zip was released and it pushed at the material of his boxers.

He caught sight of that damnable smug smirk once again as Ed occupied his hands freeing him from his confines and decided to wipe it off his face. Without forewarning therefore he reached out and latched his hands round Ed’s head, knocking his hat off to roll off into a corner, and dragged him quickly to the head of his growing erection. The only thing that prevented him from shoving himself in was the way Ed’s mouth so eagerly dropped open to receive him.

“You want this huh?” He aimed for mocking but his tone came out far too gravelly to be effective. “Want me to fuck your face?”

A flash of frustration showed in Ed’s eyes as he glanced up at him before the self satisfied curl returned to his lips.

“It's not the only hole you could fuck,” he purred seductively.

The suggestion temporarily froze Oswald as the understanding of what he meant struck him like a slap to the face.

“Just something for you to consider,” Ed added before making the most of Oswald’s lax arms to slide forward and envelop him.

Oswald groaned low in his throat as the sensation momentarily cleared anything else from his head. He reaffirmed his hold and began guiding Ed back and forth, ignoring the fact that the man was going quite willingly on his own accord. When Ed held back to wrap his tongue around the glans however, Oswald huffed and used his grip to get him moving. He didn’t want teasing today. He wanted it fast and hard.

Thankfully Ed seemed inclined to oblige and instead started focusing on taking Oswald deeper on each pass. Oswald kept his hands in place but allowed free movement while he did what was wanted, letting him pause occasionally to swallow back saliva or change his angle for a better approach.

All the while, the imagery that Ed had put in his head grew into lurid fantasy. This felt dominating enough with Ed on his knees so willingly submissive so he could only imagine how it would feel to take him so thoroughly. To own him and break him with a firm fucking. His hips began thrusting instinctively with the thought, visions of Ed’s long legs wrapped around him, his face mindless with the pleasure, all Oswald’s to do with as he would.

An indistinct sound drew his attention back to the present and he saw with a lustful shiver that his cock was now buried to the hilt in Ed’s throat. His hands were holding Ed in place and the noise was a broken choking sound while his eyes watered at the sensation. Despite that though, he was making no move to free himself. One hand was gripping Oswald’s knee tightly but not giving any sort of begging gesture and the other…

Oswald let out a moan himself as he realised Ed had freed his own cock to masturbate while he got used as a sex toy. It was utterly arousing to know Ed found this so much of a turn on and suddenly Oswald wanted to see that. He wanted to have the evidence of how much Ed desired him laid out in front of him, a panting, shuddering, moaning mess. So without any further fanfare he maneuvered Ed’s head back a little way and began to thrust with short sharp movements designed to bring himself off quickly.

It didn’t take long until he was twitching in the warm mouth and Ed was eagerly catching his cum on his tongue swallowing little mouthfuls at a time to both add extra stimulation and to ensure he didn’t miss a drop. Despite wanting little more than to sink back in a relaxed haze, Oswald forced himself to move quickly.

With one hand he pulled Ed’s head off him and with the other he reached to still the busy arm jerking as he stroked himself. Leaning forward then he stared into wide eyes darkened by the hugely dilated pupils. A tremor ran down his spine at the look on the edge between arousal and fear and he very nearly leant in to kiss him. He swallowed that instinct back by remembering his plan though.

“Stand up,” he growled hoarsely. “And perch on the desk. I want to see you cum.”

Ed apparently couldn’t find words to answer him and instead nodded eagerly before awkwardly unbending himself. For his own part Oswald now allowed himself to settle back in his chair comfortably. He reached to tuck himself away before changing his mind and simply cupping his sensitive cock in his palm. If Ed’s riveted gaze was any indication it was the correct decision.

If the man felt any embarrassment at putting himself on display for Oswald’s viewing pleasure it wasn’t noticeable. He had no hesitation about stepping out of his pants so he could sit with legs spread wide, everything proudly on show. Oswald wasn’t inclined to look where Ed expected him to however. While he did indeed want to see him fall apart under his gaze, the act of masturbation was less interesting to him than seeing the keen mind flicker out of control.

And primarily what he wanted to experience was the rush of knowing it was all because of him. Somehow, with Edward, it felt more rewarding than his usual women. Probably because he always doubted their proclaimed enjoyment was genuine. He was almost sure this was purely based on lust but the niggle hit him that Ed would be reliant on his generosity when the wall was complete. Perhaps this was a concession to win him a measure of protection and a priority in supplies. Which would be understandable but still felt like a blow to Oswald’s pride. He suddenly spoke therefore in an attempt to bury the feeling.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he demanded.

“You,” Ed answered at once, the sound of slippery flesh echoing loudly. “I want to taste you again. Kiss you again,” he clarified. “You have very kissable lips.”

Oswald huffed out a disbelieving breath.

“That’s very gay Nygma.”

All activity opposite him stopped and Ed angled his head to stare disbelievingly right back.

“I’m sitting half naked on your desk, jacking myself off. Only a few minutes ago I literally had your dick in my mouth. And its wanting to kiss you that is too gay?”

“Shut up.” Oswald hoped his blush was hidden by his already flushed cheeks. “And get on with it.”

Ed obligingly restarted his rhythm but, whether out of pettiness or a belief that he’d been admonished, he didn’t pick up his thread of thoughts. Although Oswald didn’t want to sound overly invested, he couldn’t help himself from prompting him.

“What else are you thinking? Asides from my ‘kissable lips’?”

He watched Ed’s face with open curiosity since the Riddler had shut his own eyes now.

“I’m thinking about what it would feel like.”

Oswald’s patience lasted precisely four seconds.

“What  _ what  _ would feel like?”

“You fucking me.” At that moment Ed opened his eyes and caught Oswald’s heated look before he could hide it. “It would feel  _ so  _ good,” he moaned, eyes sliding shut again, head dipping, hand increasing pace. “Fast and hard and  _ rough _ .”

“Yes.”

The simple word falling from Oswald’s lips was seemingly enough to tip Ed over the balance and he watched as streaks of cum escaped the ineffectual cup of Ed’s long fingers. Looking at Ed now proved too difficult and Oswald instead focused on getting his own cock hidden away. To his mild alarm it was showing signs of hardening again and he was very glad Ed was too out of it to notice. As soon as he was semi presentable he retrieved his handkerchief and threw it at Ed’s lap.

“Get yourself cleaned up.”

The slow blink back to reality had no business being so alluring and Oswald kept his eyes glued to a spot half a foot to the man’s left, for once thankful for the imparied vision that blurred his perception of whatever he was doing to that side. After what felt like an eternity, Ed finally returned to his feet.

“We’ll be doing this again.”

It was again a phrase both statement and question which Oswald was tempted to leave unanswered. But he wasn’t a coward and he’d already acknowledged this was happening so he’d be damned if it wasn’t on his terms.

“Yes,” he agreed before fixing Ed with a warning glance. “Until this super prison business is dealt with.”

“Easy to make but hard to break.”

With those cryptic words and a wry smile, Ed sauntered out leaving Oswald determinedly fixing his thoughts onto the violence he wished to unleash on everybody who was working to pen him in this situation.


	7. Chapter 7

Things had boiled to a head when the GCPD had stormed the Iceberg Lounge in a final attempt to remove Oswald from the property. He’d expected something of the sort as the perimeter wall reached completion but had still held out the hope of negotiating his way out of the situation. The police were notoriously corrupt after all and city officials always quick to backtrack when the wind changed direction.

Yet he was not dealing with the usual movers and shakers. A new power behind the lines was directing the attack against him and they’d incorporated their own troops who had proved much more resistant to his bargains. More adept than the officers in surviving his retaliation as well. It was possible Gordon would have persisted in trying to vacate Oswald from his stronghold but the death of three of his men along with the persuasion of the Tyger guards convinced him to leave Penguin to his fate sans trial.

The whole experience had left Oswald riding something of an adrenaline high. After all the petitions and political wrangling, everyone had finally shown their colours and he was free to act as he pleased. The final abandonment without appeal was a timely reminder that while the more socially acceptable Gothamites might wear sympathetic faces, they were all wolves beneath the surface. He had played by their rules and they had still seen fit to cast him adrift with the dregs of humanity.

Well, he would come back stronger than ever. First he’d seize control of this hellhole, then he’d retake his rightful place holding the strings to the rest of the city. He’d show them all. Starting with the individual responsible for orchestrating his incarceration here, because it was no coincidence the string of events and road blocks that had hindered his attempts to avoid this trap. But first he needed to consolidate his position.

“Right. If you lunkheads want to earn your place… and rest assured, anyone who doesn’t will find themselves kicked to the curb  _ if they’re lucky _ ,” he glared emphatically, “then I need you to get busy. Rumour is Freeze is looking for his wife somewhere round the docks. I want him caught and brought here. His technology will give me the element of surprise to take out the competition.

“I want the number of patrols increased too. There’s no doubt Two Face will be planning a move just as soon as his damn coin lands the wrong way. No telling when that might be.”

“No telling without eavesdropping.”

A familiar voice interrupted and Oswald saw his men part to reveal Riddler entering the Lounge, seemingly dressed in his finest as he too anticipated the forthcoming challenges. It reminded Oswald that it likely also wouldn’t be long until Batman stuck his nose into their business. Meanwhile Riddler had pulled a roll of paper from inside his jacket.

“Some of you apes might want to start on the more basic construction for these devices.”

“The jammers?” Oswald queried, even as one of his brighter men took the plans from Ed.

“Yes, though obviously the frequencies and techniques for intercepting the various signals is seperate. I can explain if you like?”

Something about the arch to his eyebrow piqued Oswald’s interest and he couldn’t help but quirk his lips in response before almost immediately glaring again at his assembled men.

“Well? What are you standing around for? Get on with it.”

Having sent them scurrying he gave a curt gesture for Ed to follow him and strode away back to his office. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d be accompanied and he gave little thought to the encounter. His mental processes were still calculating probabilities and possibilities for how the prison hierarchy would clash and the easiest way for him to secure his dominant placement. Therefore, the moment they were alone, he followed no plan but reacted on pure emotion to Ed’s arrival, only waiting long enough for the door to latch behind them before spinning and pressing Ed to it.

Any other time and he might have felt ashamed of how hard he was already, just from his earlier adrenaline rush coupled with the imminent prospect of sexual release, but in the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. Ed’s thigh was hardly a soft welcoming surface to rut against though being all bone and sinew.

“I should kneecap you,” Oswald proposed. “You’re too goddamn tall.”

“I’m sure we can come up with a less painful solution. It all depends what you want.” He shimmied an arm between them to grip Oswald’s arousal. “Would you like me to blow you again? Jerk off together? Or” he lent in provocatively, breath ghosting over Oswald’s ear. “Should I ride you?”

Oswald found his hands tightening where he was holding the man’s elbows, though whether to restrain himself from lashing out or pulling Ed in even he wasn't sure.

“I’m not fucking gay,” he reiterated, deftly avoiding anwsering the question even though Ed must have felt his dick twicth with interest at the proposition.

The snarl had the effect of causing Ed to pull back slightly to stare him in the face.

“Do you know what you  _ are _ , Penguin?” He didn’t wait for a response. “A man who sees what he wants and takes it. Seizes it with both hands. No matter what anyone else thinks. A man who won’t let anything stand in his way. So,” Ed released his grip and reclined himself back against the wall. “What is it you  _ want _ ? Right now?”

The imagery flooded his mind with visions of Ed, naked and wanton, begging for him. Pleading for the pleasure only  _ he  _ could give. The thought of what it would feel like to be sealed in living heat again after what felt like an age was more than enough to propel Oswald into action. Animalistic urges took over and he didn’t reply verbally but growled low and lunged to seize his prey.

Their faces all but crashed together as Oswald yanked Ed down by his lapels. It took a few seconds fumbling before Ed redirected their heads enabling their lips and tongues to find each other. Meanwhile, Oswald’s hands wasted no time relocating to the belt and flies that presented his next obstacle to overcome. Ed actually whined as he was freed and Oswald huffed out a laugh at finding him already so desperate.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a slut?” he cooed. “I bet you came here with this very aim in mind didn't you?”

A wicked grin met his suggestion before Ed answered, his own hands wrinkling Oswald’s shirt.

“I always plan two steps ahead Penguin, you know that.”

Either his arrogance or the interruption, or more likely both, regardless of them being prompted by Oswald himself, riled him back into action and he tugged Ed forward.

“Get rid of the pants and get on the desk.”

“I have a better idea.” Ed grinned. “Why don’t I do the work and you sit back and enjoy it?”

For a brief moment Oswald felt a surge of paranoia. Handing over control of any situation was anathema to him. Yet preening lust won out and he smirked as, with as much nonchalance as he could muster, he sauntered to his large chair and slumped into it. As before he only shifted enough to give his erection freedom of movement before settling to await Ed’s service.

In the minute it had taken Oswald to relocate, Ed had toed off his shoes and removed his jacket and belt. Now he followed with stalking steps until he was poised between the seated king of Gotham and the desk. It was the perfect position for Oswald to get a close up view of his dick as Ed finally dropped the pants and stepped free and he found himself staring hungrily. He realised his fixation just at the instant Ed chose to turn which thankfully let him avoid contemplating his own undeniable attraction. Instead his attention was riveted to the sight that met his eyes.

It would be fair to say Oswald had never given the practicalities of male sex much consideration. Occasionally he’d had flickering thoughts of anal sex, which he’d argue weren’t inherently gay since women had anuses too, but it had never manifested beyond ideas of ramming himself in repeatedly. He’d certainly never considered the arousing nature an anal plug would present. Especially not how it would look for someone to spread themselves with it in front of his very eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d want to wait,” Ed was saying remarkably casually for someone busy fucking themselves. “Knowing what you’re like after a fire fight. So I did my own prep.”

Oswald restrained himself admirably from seizing those ridiculously narrow hips and splitting him on his cock for one very good reason. He knew  _ he  _ was clean, but he had no idea about Ed, and wasn’t about to trust the man’s word on the topic. Not when he had proven to be such a seductive bastard. So, with his gaze still riveted on the show, he reached one hand to his desk drawer and rummaged about until he felt a familiar foil packet. He caught Ed’s sideways look and widening eyes as he recognised the packaging and was pleased to hear a hitch in his breathing.

As Ed ducked his head and his motions grew more forceful, Oswald finally looked away to roll the condom on and briskly slick his dick with saliva.

“Are you ready?”

Ed’s voice was definitely not calm now but to his surprise Oswald found he had to steady himself before replying as well. Gripping the armrests helped steel him.

“I’m more than ready,” he avowed with all the confidence he could muster.

He almost regretted his conviction when Ed immediately tossed his toy aside and instead reached back to manhandle Oswald. All Oswald could do was watch as that implacable grip angled him to the slick hole lowering onto him. The feel of muscles stretching to accommodate his head made him gasp and he grit his teeth to prevent any other noises escaping him. Which was just as well since Ed didn’t hesitate but continued to push his ass back sinking further into Oswald’s lap and swallowing every inch in almost unbearable tightness. In the waves of stimulation he was adjusting to, Oswald almost missed the shudder running across the thin frame before him, but something about the reaction soothed his own concerns and he transferred one arm to latch around the man’s waist.

For several slow inhalations they simply sat, getting comfortable with the arrangement, and then Ed began lifting himself gingerly. Oswald pressed his hand instinctively to pull him closer while his mind was seemingly off line. Every rise and fall he could feel Ed’s rim stretching to allow his girth past. As he pressed fully in, lube squelched out, dampening the thatch of dark hair at his crotch and simulating the wetness he’d always associated with pleasing a partner. It was good, and nowhere near as abnormal as he’d assumed sex with a man would be, and he suddenly wanted a lot more involvement.

Tightening his arm round Ed’s middle therefore he followed him as he next pulled away, rising out of his chair and using the momentum to shove Ed flat against the desk.

“Oh!”

The breathy sound didn’t sound at all displeased with the maneuver and Ed lost no time in fumbling his hands from where they’d been braced to gripping the far edge, obviously steadying himself for whatever Oswald would do next. The submissive acceptance of his move for dominance brought a smile to Oswald’s face and he rewarded the compliance with a few experimental thrusts, amply conveying his intent and giving Ed time to adjust his position and hold.

He didn’t wait long however before allowing his emotions free rein to find release. Keeping one hand holding Ed's hip bruisingly tight, he transferred the other to the middle of his back to hold him in place and then set up a vigorous pace. Although he maintained his gritted teeth to avoid blurting anything unpremeditated in the throes of passion, Riddler seemingly had no such compulsion.

“Yes! God! So good. Knew you’d fuck like a beast.”

“You like taking cock. Like taking my cock?”

Oswald hadn’t intended to speak but getting such feedback was a heady pleasure he enjoyed. Having got it unprompted was even better.

“Oh god yes,” Ed groaned. “Knew the minute I saw it… it would fill me so well… thick to the… edge of pain… just long… enough… hit my… hit… oh god… right there… yes…”

Words were apparently beyond Ed now but that in itself sent a surge of triumph through Oswald. Fucking Riddler to the point of speechessness had to be a favourite achievement. Not that he was doing much better. He didn’t attempt to form words but he couldn’t even maintain his silence anymore. The huffed breaths through his stoma were scattered with grunts and other unattractive noises that might have embarrassed him with anyone else. Given Ed was in the process of being fucked over a desk though Oswald figured he was the last person to call him on anything.

Everything built quickly to an inescapable crescendo and Oswald held himself firmly inside Edward as he came. His shirt was sticking uncomfortably and he could see the sweat through Ed’s as well as he lay practically on top of him. Ed only gave him a few seconds to bask however before shifting uncomfortably.

“I can’t… reach,” he muttered, hips attempting feebly to thrust despite the body weighing him down. Given the choice of moving or assisting, Oswald unthinkingly opted for the later, reaching underneath them both to grasp Ed’s slick erection. Apparently the unexpected grip was enough to tip him over the edge as well and Oswald simply held it as it pulsed, idly noting the warm sensation. Beneath his chest he could feel the shudders run through Ed and found his other hand moving to stroke his flank soothingly.

He gave himself another minute before almost reluctantly pulling back and out, dropping down into his chair again. The view was surprisingly arousing as Ed’s red hole was pulsing right on his eye level but he forcefully ignored it and instead focused on the unpleasant task of removing his cum filled condom and attempting a clean up. The sound of the rubber hitting the trash can seemed to bring Ed back to himself and he managed to roll over to prop himself tiredly against the desk.

“That was good.”

Oswald ignored the inane remark as he swivelled and scooped up Ed’s trousers to toss at him. He could not conduct a reasonable conversation while he could still see the man’s dick. It was bad enough having cum staining the floor and underside of his desk. Thankfully Ed didn’t quibble but slipped them back on before continuing.

“I trust you’re feeling less tense?”

With himself tucked away again and Ed covered, Oswald relaxed and realised he was genuinely feeling more invigorated than before, if with a degree more lassitude. He allowed a grin to lift his face.

“I certainly feel ready to take on whatever forces come at me next.”

The statement brought a wide smile to Ed’s face too.

“Nothing like some animal passion to get the juices flowing. It could do us both good to unwind together. If you’re interested.”

He couldn’t help his quick glance down the lithe form as he considered a repeat performance but he wasn’t about to concede that desire so easily.

“What I’m interested in right now are those frequencies. Things are going to step up in here now the wall is completed.”

“Very true.” Ed settled more comfortably, looking very at home. “Having a steady, reliable relationship will be to both our benefits. I shall be as reliant on you as you are on me.”

Two lines of thought competed in the forefront of Penguin’s mind. Ed acting as unofficial informant for him in exchange for help and spare parts but also Ed laying like a whore desperate for sex. Both were very satisfying ideas.

“I think we’ll work very well together,” he agreed. “You can start by explaining how to decode everyone’s signals.”

“And then?” Ed prompted with an arched brow.

Oswald paused.

“And then we’ll see how the mood strikes me. Maybe I’ll drop you in with the shark again.”

“If you want me naked, you only have to ask.”

“The codes,” Oswald bit out, feeling his tension levels start to rise again.

Apparently Ed noticed too as the insufferable rogue grinned triumphantly, making Oswald realise it was part of Ed’s plan to rile him again. Strangely, he found he wasn’t actually irritated by the realisation. In fact, as Edward finally started explaining the procedure to deduce the frequencies, Oswald wondered if that wasn’t a game that two could play. Casually therefore he toed off his own shoes, leaving himself clad only in well worn socks. Then he extended a foot to faux accidentally brush over Edward's similarly attired feet.

The heated glance showed his challenge was noted and accepted even as Ed diligently continued talking. But that was suddenly secondary to both of them as the game commenced to crack the other’s placid exterior first.

Neither intended to lose but luckily the loser stood to get one hell of a consolation prize.


	8. Chapter 8

Gotham rogues had a way of crawling out of the wreckage and coming back from certain death. Survival of the fittest perhaps, or maybe something in the water, but either way it wasn't overly surprising when Scarecrow eventually resurfaced. A request to hear a proposal was more out of character as none of them were particularly known for collaborating, him less so than most. Yet he’d managed to time his appeal to perfection given the various beatings and set backs everyone had endured not only at the Batman’s hands but, in Penguin’s case particularly, from Hugo Strange’s master plan. An invite to assist in a pre-laid scheme to finally rid themselves of the benighted enemy was too good to ignore. Even if he did insist on gathering them all at his own convenience to find out more.

Edward had arrived early to assess the chosen location in advance. A part of him had thought to suggest showing up with Oswald to present their own united front but he doubted the other man would have gone for it. He was willing enough to demonstrate his attraction to Ed behind closed doors but outside was still another matter entirely. It didn’t upset him but Ed did feel it clouded Oswald’s judgement to the possible benefits that might spring from being seen as having a productive working relationship.

His distraction considering his undeclared status in regards to Penguin allowed him to be startled by his host’s unexpected arrival behind him and he jumped at the sudden voice.

“Lurking still Nygma? It always was one of your least attractive qualities.”

“Crane. You’re one to talk.”

He smoothed his expression before turning to see where Scarecrow was stood watching him, seemingly having arrived on the roof from a puff of smoke as he couldn’t have snuck past from the door without Ed seeing. Peripherally he noted the building chosen for their assignation obviously had several exits to allow him to sneak out and get the drop on him. Primarily he noticed that Crane still looked the worse for wear from his last defeat in Arkham.

“We all thought Croc had killed you.”

“No you didn’t,” he was countered at once. “Or you wouldn’t have been keeping an eye on Jervis’ place.”

Ed tilted his head in acknowledgment feeling a sense of pleasure in the parry of wits. Which Scarecrow promptly spoilt by zeroing in on Ed’s current anxiety with his usual unerring accuracy.

“Which reminds me. You’re playing a dangerous game with Penguin.”

“What?”

Even Ed couldn’t have said what struck him more; the casual mention made to his affairs or wondering how Crane had found out in the first place. Had he been spying in turn upon the Penguin’s stronghold? Or had the Mad Hatter used his techniques of interrogation to wrangle news of his visits from one of Oswald’s men? If it was the later and the underlings were spreading rumours then there would be serious repercussions all round.

“Wherever could you have got such a notion?” He aimed for a supercilious air of disdain, and was pretty sure he’d nailed it, but Scarecrow remained unfazed.

“From your own riddle.” Crane tilted his head in a disturbing way. “Can anyone  _ top  _ the Penguin. Really Eddie? Even for you that's a tad obvious.”

Ed’s nostrils flared at the implied insult even as he mentally cataloged Scarecrow’s interception of his own communications with Batman. Swiftly he tried to run through all the other conversations that might have been overheard and just how incriminating some of them might have sounded. Undoubtedly he’d garnered enough evidence to make arguing about his relationship with Oswald pointless.

In the mere seconds it took Riddler to compartmentalise all that, Scarecrow carried on with the point he was making.

“I have spent months putting together the perfect plan, utilising everyone’s special skills and reliant on  _ actual  _ team work for once. The last thing we need is for it to fail because you two have a lovers’ tiff.” He stepped closer to ensure Ed couldn’t avoid his stare. “Did you never hear that you shouldn’t mix business and pleasure?”

Ignoring the barbed jibe momentarily, not least because he couldn’t decisively refute the possibility of a lovers’ tiff, Ed decided the best form of defence was a strong offence so he turned the accusation back on the former psychologist.

“And what about you and Jervis? Rather a weakness, wouldn't you say? It was easy to predict your visit there eventually.”

“Which is what allowed me to contact you  _ when I was ready _ .” The voice was pitched to send a shiver down the spine. “But it’s not the same thing at all. Jervis is undeniably a gifted specialist, without whose talents Strange would never have made the headway he did, but he doesn’t have the same widespread control Penguin does. If Penguin gets upset he could curtail vital supplies reaching us. Make large swaths of workforce inaccessible. Not to mention launching an attack that would not only bring down my plan but easily double our problems.”

“Then it’s as well I’m adept at keeping him happy and content then isn’t it?”

Belatedly Ed realised he’d folded his arms defensively as well as confirmed Crane’s hypothesis.

“Temporarily.” Crane added the proviso for him. “I know you’re self absorbed Nygma but even  _ you  _ should realise he’ll throw you over the moment he has access to willing women again.  _ Any  _ willing woman.”

It was on the tip of Ed’s tongue to protest that, to state that now Oswald had a taste of him he’d never be quite content with his parade of pretty maids again, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Not only because he knew Jonathan would deny it without hesitation but also since he couldn’t feel the confidence he usually felt in himself. Not for the first time he wondered if Scarecrow’s fear toxin was so ingrained in the man as to make it’s effects permanent around him. Or whether Crane simply was that good of a psychologist with a natural ability to undermine people.

Whatever the cause, he found his certainty wavering and internally cursed the unnerving nature of meetings with Jonathan. Externally, he narrowed his eyes and straightened his spine in an effort to appear uncowed. Although technically Jonathan had a few inches on him, his posture generally meant Ed could claim a height advantage.

“We’ll have to wait and see about that, won’t we?” he said with as much bravado as he could muster.

Possibly Scarecrow would have made a comeback to that as well but a sound over by the fire escape drew both their attention. Turning, their eyes met the sight of Oswald hauling himself up and over the edge to the roof, looking thoroughly pissed off.

“What are you two up to?” he demanded, barely waiting to get his breath back. “Playing silly buggers on the roof?”

“I could ask you two the same thing.” Scarecrow moved backwards deftly to have them both in his line of sight.

Briefly Ed felt a tendril of panic that he was about to raise the subject of his fraternisation with Penguin. Hearing anyone knew of that would undoubtedly cause Oswald’s volatile temper to blow up. He knew he’d have to tell him sometime that Crane knew, or at least suspected, but he was rather hoping to manage it so as to avoid being caught in the retaliation.

Meanwhile Scarecrow continued, “I give instructions to meet on the second floor and I find both of you on the roof.”

Opposite him, Oswald huffed and glared derisively.

“If you think I’ll blindly follow instructions without suspecting a trap you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. Especially when my men reported figures moving about on the roof of the building.”

His gaze flickered questioningly to Ed, unaccountably making him nervous.

“Ditto,” he added quickly. “To the trap thing. I like to know the ins and outs of a situation before getting in.”

“Well, if you’re both satisfied with the surroundings, perhaps we can go down now?” Crane suggested sarcastically. “Unless you want to stay up here and take in the moonlight together.”

Thankfully he didn’t await an answer and Ed breathed a sigh of relief that Oswald didn’t seem inclined to put over much stock in the insinuating suggestion. Still, his stress levels were uncomfortably elevated as he fell into step behind Jonathan heading across to the stairwell. He didn’t dare look back at Penguin and focused entirely on getting his anxious thoughts back under control. Which was probably why he wasn’t as aware of his physical surroundings as he should have been.

Perhaps he subconsciously assumed Jonathan would do the normal thing and prop the door for him. Maybe it wasn’t actually a deliberate set up on the part of Scarecrow either. Whatever the reasoning though, Jonathan had allowed the door to swing enough that Riddler was about to walk slap bang into it fully edge on. Whether he’d set it up or not, Jonathan would certainly have been amused at the inevitable forehead bruise.

Except Ed was snapped out of his own head, and yanked vital inches away from the solid door, seconds before he could connect. Blinking bemusedly as he readjusted to being present in his environment, he abruptly realised what had just saved him and tilted his head down to stare at his saviour. For his own part Oswald looked as distracted as Edward had apparently been and simply stepped on past Edward without acknowledging the incident at all. Ed found himself smiling as the sequence of events fell into place. Oswald had seen Ed about to crack his head and had grabbed him in the nick of time but it was an entirely instinctive reaction on Oswald’s part.

He was obviously too focused on Scarecrow’s tactics to pay Ed any considered attention and didn’t seem to notice he’d even done anything unusual, which only made Ed grin the wider. Following behind Penguin, Ed fought the reaction that wanted to burst out of him in triumph. Now was certainly not the time to bring Oswald’s attention to his own actions, not when they had bigger fish to fry, but Ed couldn’t help but be affected by the gesture.

Biting his lip he managed to tamp down the urge to crow because, whether he realised it or not, Oswald  _ cared _ . And not just about his ability to perform sexual favours. He might not know it yet but the Penguin was invested in his welfare and that was leverage he was more than happy to have. It might not seem much but given Penguin’s generally callous nature to everyone, this felt like more than he could have hoped for. And it was something he could build on.

As they finally gathered with the others ready to hear Scarecrow out, Ed’s mind was already splitting his focus. He’d go along with the scheme, do his bit to help finish off the Batman but he’d also work to ingratiate himself further with Oswald. Offer more alternative ways to relax. Given the chance he knew he could easily learn all the tricks and shortcuts needed to make himself invaluable. He’d already made a good start.

Time would tell if he’d succeed in forming a permanent alliance in the end but he was relatively sure he’d be the only man ever to hold this place in Oswald’s life. Even if he did bring his harem of women back to warm his bed in his absence, Ed knew he would always hold a special place as the first man he’d bedded. And, if he had any say in the matter, he’d make sure he was the last.


End file.
